


Resist

by reen212000



Category: Fruits Basket
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Physical Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-04
Updated: 2012-09-04
Packaged: 2017-11-13 13:51:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/504190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reen212000/pseuds/reen212000
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Sohma 'god' could threaten all he wanted, but Hatori knew Shigure would resist with all his might to not lose everything and everyone he loved. A tag for A Solitary New Year.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Resist

**Author's Note:**

> So I was re-watching this little anime, and saw 'A Solitary New Year' again. At the end, you get to see a bit of Shigure's true nature. I've read a fair bit of the manga, which has so much angst and thrown in with the humor. Quite the complicated series, with the members of the Sohma household often behaving like their spirit familiars.
> 
> Also, don't hit me! I've never written for this fandom, so I'm sure there will be some OOCness. That being said, I love Shigure. He is by far my favorite character in this series, the next being Hatori. So here's a moment between them. This takes place before Akito's big reveal.
> 
> As per usual, I own nothing, and this is unbeta'd. Enjoy.

Tohru Honda rose early, earlier than usual; she wanted to catch Shigure before he left. For three weeks now, the elder Sohma had been summoned to the main house for breakfast with Akito. Deep down, Tohru knew it may have had something to do with the missed New Year's celebration, and she hoped he would be all right.

Yesterday, she had caught a glimpse of the dog leaving, wrapped in an elaborate kimono. Akito had sent the robes last week for Shigure's attendance. The elder Sohma looked almost radiant in the beautiful blue and white silk. His dark hair had gotten longer, framing his pale face. 

Actually, Tohru thought, he's been looking more pale by the day. When Shigure had returned yesterday, she could see the purple smudges under his eyes before he disappeared into his office. What about today?

Dressing quickly, Tohru ran downstairs to begin preparations for breakfast. She found Shigure seated in his usual spot, sipping tea and smoking. Today, he was draped in red and white silk, calmly perusing the newspaper, his damp hair curling at his collar.

“Good morning, Miss Honda,” he said, barely glancing from his paper. “Sleep well?”

_He's really quite handsome in red,_ Tohru thought. Shaking away the encroaching thoughts, she bowed slightly. “Yes, thank you, Shigure-san. How about you?”

“Fine, fine.”

Tohru watched him place the teacup down on the table; his hand trembled slightly. Kneeling down next to the older man, she refilled his tea. “Are you going to the main house for breakfast again?”

A frown briefly creased the dog's serene face, smoothing before it could settle. “That I am. Actually,” he answered, rising. “I will be out all day; the last edits of my book are due. So, I thought I'd make a day of it.”

“Won't Mitsu-san be surprised.”

In spite of himself, Shigure chuckled. “Indeed.” Straightening his outer robe, he attached the glass netsuke after closing the inro; the small pouch contained a little money, two keys, and a flash drive.

“Wow! You look so... formal.”

“Thank you, Miss Honda. However, I was hoping you'd say 'handsome'.” Shigure winked. “Well, I'm off. It's likely I'll be staying at the main house tonight, so I won't be enjoying your delicious cooking.”

Blushing, Tohru collected the half-empty teacup. “Oh, all right.” She waved as Shigure slid the door open. As he stepped out, he reached out a hand to steady himself. “Shigure-san? Are you all right?”

“I'm fine, my flower petal. Just not used to walking in these,” Shigure smiled, pointing at his geta. “See you tomorrow!”

And he was gone.

Tohru sighed. The writer wasn't one to share his feelings, but she hoped Shigure would take better care of himself. The purple smudges weren't as pronounced today; nevertheless, they were still there. Maybe I should call Hatori? Picking up the phone, Tohru dialed the number.

Hatori would know what to do.

oOoOoOo

Hatori Sohma sat on his porch, watching for his cousin. Taking his first drag on a new cigarette, the doctor watched the smoke drift in the cool morning breeze. Out of the corner of his eye, Hatori spotted a flash of red, disappear behind a tree. Leaning forward, he waited for the apparition to reappear. 

Blinking at the sight, the doctor watched Shigure gracefully walk toward the main house. Hatori struggled to remember a time when the dog dressed in such a manner. The kimono he wore was beautiful, deep red silk with a tiny gold print, flowing elegantly over his slender frame. Very expensive, very formal. Combined with Shigure's longer hair and pale skin, Hatori smiled fondly at the sight. 

_Aya would be beside himself,_ he thought. _The dog is pretty in red._

Pausing in his careful pace, Shigure glanced toward his friend. “You know, Haa-san,” this new Shigure said nonchalantly. “I can pose for you later. Right now, I must get to Akito-san.”

Startled out of his observation, Hatori quickly stepped off the porch, falling into step with his friend. “Breakfast, again?”

“Yes.” Gathering the slightly oversized kimono, Shigure climbed the steps with a wince.

Automatically, the doctor caught his friend's elbow as Shigure swayed, fingers gliding over a delicate wrist. The thinness of the other man's arm bothered Hatori more than anything. How had he missed his friend's declining health?

“Haa-san? I'm going to need my arm back.”

“Of course. I apologize.” Curious, Hatori followed his friend, only to be stopped by Kureno.

“Akito-san will see you after breakfast, Hatori-sensei.”

Knowing he was being dismissed, Hatori wasn't happy about leaving. He exited the house, fishing his pockets for another cigarette.

Ninety minutes and six contemplative cigarettes later, Shigure left the main house. He walked slowly toward the tree-lined path leading to the main gate.

Once again, the dragon fell into step with the dog, observing the other man. Moving to Shigure's left, Hatori noticed his friend favoring his right side. The writer had always been pale; something he blamed on his vocation. However, Hatori was certain he had never seen Shigure appear wan. Making a quick decision, the doctor steered his future patient toward his home and office.

Shigure resisted weakly, only to lean into Hatori's gentle embrace. “As much as I would love to chat, I really must go.” He waved his hand with a wince. “Things to do, Ha'ri.”

The doctor chuckled softly. “You're not going anywhere until I've had a look at you.”

“Ah,” Shigure replied breathlessly. “Well, I did say I'd pose for that picture, didn't I?”

“'Gure. Let me look at you.”

“I would, but–” Shigure suddenly collapsed, leaving Hatori with an armful of writer. 

“What have you done to yourself, my friend?”

Sliding a gentle hand under the collar of the kimono, he felt for a pulse. A little too fast, but strong; he listened to the shallow breaths escaping Shigure's lips. Cupping a cheek, Hatori tried to rouse the other man. He smoothed back Shigure's dark hair, hoping for a response.

Nothing.

Scooping up his patient, Hatori carried the writer to his room. He frowned with concern at how his cousin and friend was nearly weightless. Carefully, he lay Shigure on the futon; he remembered the man was possibly injured. Easily maneuvering the limp body, the doctor loosened the obi after removing the inro and netsuke, carefully placing the carved glass ornament on the blanket. Peeling open the kimono and nagajuban, Hatori's frown deepened.

Multiple bruises in a variety of colors marred Shigure's lean torso. Ranging from yellow to purple to nearly black, Hatori knew the beatings had started weeks ago. Gently probing the injuries, the doctor gauged the amount of pain Shigure was in by his semi-conscious response. The deeper bruises on the left side made the patient open his eyes.

“I apologize, 'Gure,” Hatori said quietly. Probing the ribs, the doctor was relieved there was no pain. “Is this Akito's doing?”

Uncharacteristically, Shigure looked away. Hatori always thought Shigure was an attractive man; his dark hair fanned across the pillow, accentuating his long neck. The dark red kimono complimented the writer's pale, pale skin. At that moment, Hatori's heart sank, finding the prominent collarbones and ribs disconcerting.

Sitting back on his heels, the dragon sighed. “Shigure?”

Raising a languid hand, the writer grasped his friend's hand, rubbing a thumb across Hatori's palm. “Ah, Ha'ri. That I cannot say aloud.”

“Why did it start?” the doctor asked, although he had an inkling. But Shigure remained silent, studying the wall. Sighing, Hatori squeezed a hand. “I'm going to undress you. Please relax and let me do all the work.”

Shigure glanced back, something akin to fear in his eyes. “No, Haa-san. I really must take my leave. Full day today.”

“You know I can't let you leave just yet,” Hatori replied, gently pulling Shigure into a sitting position. “If you can walk away on your own, I'll let you leave.”

With a sigh of resignation, Shigure settled against his friend, resting his head against a shoulder. The dog smelled faintly of jasmine and vanilla; Akito's favorite scent. Loosing the richly textured layer further, Hatori smiled. “You're wearing a very feminine kimono, 'Gure.”

“Please don't remind me.”

Carefully, Hatori lay the other man down, finally pulling away the outer layer. Tapping a leg, the doctor rose. “Be right back.”

“Where're you going?” Shigure asked, sleepily groping for a warm hand.

Smiling, Hatori reassured his friend, snagging the questing hand. “This needs to be folded properly. Otherwise, Akito won't be pleased.”

The dog snorted. “You can burn it for all I care.”

“I don't think so. Akito had this made especially for you, and for you only.” Spreading the kimono out, Hatori began folding the expensive fabric. “He will ask you to wear it again.”

Shigure sighed again, closing his eyes. “Tonight, actually.”

“Tonight?”

“Dinner.”

Frowning, Hatori rose, hanging the kimono. “Akito will definitely want you to wear this. And you must be presentable.”

“I'm sure he has other ideas,” Shigure said with a sigh, keeping his eyes closed.

The doctor knelt down, using the age old, inaccurate thermometer, pressing a hand to his patient's head. “I'm glad you don't have a fever.” Smoothing a hand over the lean torso, Hatori waited for Shigure's reaction as he continued his examination.

Pressing gently at a spectacular bruise, the doctor heard a faint gasp escape the prone man's lips. Hatori continued lower until Shigure opened his eyes; the dragon held the dog's glare. “Just relax. I'm going to turn you over.”

Shigure nodded, closing his eyes in resignation. “I won't be able to leave until you get what you want, will I?”

“You of all people should know the answer to that.” Slipping an arm out of the nagajuban, Shigure let himself be turned on his right side. 

Hatori noted the older, mostly healed bruises as he examined the upper torso. A stylized tattoo of a dog, reminiscent of a Chinese ink wash painting, graced his left shoulder. “When did you get this?”

“Months ago. Aya designed it for me.” Shigure smiled dreamily. “Do you like it, Ha'ri?”

“It's quite beautiful. I'll have to compliment Ayame the next time I see him.” Placing long fingers over a shoulder, Hatori guided his patient to lie flat. He felt the writer tense, evidently holding his breath. “Breathe, 'Gure. I need you to relax.” The nagajuban was now fully open, causing the doctor's frown to deepen.

“Your face will get stuck like that, you know.”

Palpitating the discolored flesh, Hatori made sure the damage wasn't any worse than deep bruises. “Whenever Akito is involved, this frown will stay,” he murmured. Deft hands moved further down, until he felt cool fingers encircle his wrist. With a sigh, the dragon glanced up. “'Gure...”

“I know you're a doctor, Haa-san, but spare me some dignity, please.”

Smiling before he could catch himself, Hatori felt relief seeing his friend returning to normal. “Fine, have it your way.”

Shigure made an attempt to rise, and found his movement restricted. “I really need to go.”

“You're not going anywhere,” Hatori said, shaking his head firmly. “Just rest for now.”

Sighing, the dog settled against the pillow. “A short nap, Ha'ri. Then I must be on my way.” Closing his eyes, Shigure let himself relax. As he drifted off, he heard quiet footsteps. Tensing, he thought of his last audience with Akito.

“Shh. Sleep. I'll be right back.” As soon as his friend to settle into sleep, Hatori exited the room. He closed the panel quietly, making his way through the house.

Halfway to the main house, Kureno met him, bowing quietly. “Hatori-sensei. Akito-san is ready for your visit.” Turning on his heel, he led the dragon down the meticulously groomed path.

Entering the dimly lit room, Hatori pushed his hair away from his nearly useless eye. “Akito-san. How are you feeling today?”

“What do you care?” came the sullen reply. “That dog seems to be more important than me.”

Frowning, Hatori chose his words carefully. “As a doctor, I'm obligated to provide the best care for all my patients.”

Akito gave a derisive snort. “You'd rather coddle that filthy animal than see to my health. Admit it.” Shifting from reclining to sitting, Akito glared at the dragon. “You like him better than me.”

“Untrue, Akito-san. You are my priority--” 

“Don't patronize me.” Gathering the oversized robes, the Sohma 'god' tore himself away from the window. He shuffled into the middle of the room, frowning.

Hatori noticed the resemblance between Akito's and Shigure's garments. “Your kimono is quite striking today.”

Raising a hand to his mouth, Akito giggled. “The dog looked very pretty today, didn't he? All that pale, smooth skin. Perfect.” With a deceptively fond smile, he held out a delicate hand for the doctor to take.

“Is that why you hurt him?” Hatori immediately regretted his words, as Akito tightly squeezed his hand. Glancing up from his captured hand, the doctor watched the younger man's scowl resolve itself into a bland expression.

Shaking his head, Akito allowed the doctor to guide him to a chair. “Today is the end of his punishment. For now.” Tilting his head, he smiled at the older man. “Were you concerned?”

“Of course. Shigure's injuries aren't severe, but he's not well.” Hatori knelt down, checking the god's vitals.

“Yes, you're right. Shigure has gotten far too thin.” Akito turned large eyes toward the doctor, looking every bit his young age. “Will you fix him?”

Raising a brow at the sudden behavior, Hatori frowned. “I–”

Suddenly, the door slid open with a bang. “Hello! I'm glad I caught you, Ha'ri.” Shigure stumbled into the room.

“'Gure? What are you doing here?” Hatori rose, moving toward his friend. “You're supposed to be resting.”

Waving a shaky, yet dismissive hand, Shigure smiled. “I'm fine, Ha'ri. Akito-san, how about we finish our game? We–”

“Get away from me, dog!” The boy skittered toward a dark corner of the room. “You're ill! Hatori!”

The dragon immediately grabbed his friend. “Let's go, Shigure,” he said calmly. “I don't want Akito excited.”

“I always knew you were trying to kill me, you filthy dog. Get out!” Akito covered the lower half of his face with a kimono sleeve.

Shigure paled even further. “That's not true. You're being silly–”

“Come on, 'Gure. You both need rest.” Gripping his friend's arm tighter, Hatori steered them both through the door. “Akito-san, I will check on you later. Please rest until I return.”

Without waiting for an answer, Hatori closed the door.

Turning to his companion, the doctor gave his best scowl. “What were you thinking, Shigure?”

“I'm sorry, Ha'ri. I–” 

“I told you to stay put, and of course you never listen.” Hatori felt Shigure lean further into his space. “'Gure?”

“Ha'ri? I don't–” The writer lost any remaining color he had, and collapsed.

Hatori gathered Shigure into his arms, marching toward the main entrance. Kureno appeared, bowing respectfully, sparing a glance at the pale man draped over the doctor's arms.

“Akito is resting. Please be sure he's comfortable.”

“Of course, Hatori-sensei.”

Carrying his friend – for the second time today – Hatori maneuvered the long skinny body back onto the futon. Quicky checking the dog's vitals, Hatori breathed a sigh of relief. Shigure had used the last of his energy to “rescue” his friend; now he was in an exhausted sleep.

Loosening the hastily tied obi, the doctor removed all the constricting robes so his patient could sleep comfortably. He smoothed back the dark hair, feeling the heat rise off the prone body. “That's it. You're staying in bed for the next few days.”

“Aww, Ha'ri,” the patient whined. “I need to deliver my... my... um...” Blinking the sleep away, Shigure tried to focus on his cousin. “Why am I back here?”

“Because you didn't listen to me when I told you to stay in bed. Akito–”

“Are you all right?” Shigure raised his head off the pillow, only to have it drop back again. “Did Akito hurt you?”

Shaking his head, the dragon smiled fondly. Very few people were gifted with such a smile, Shigure being one of them. “Don't worry about me, 'Gure. Go to sleep.” Hatori moved to rise from the futon, only to be restrained. 

An icy hand clamped around his wrist, pulling him down. “Stay. Please.”

“I have work to do, Shigure.”

Closing his eyes with a sigh, the writer smiled. “A short nap will do you good, Ha'ri.” Opening his eyes, he pinned the other man with a look. “Stay.”

Hatori grumbled, loosing his tie and collar, then settled down next to his best friend. “I'll stay until you fall asleep.”

“Fine,” Shigure replied with a huff. Placing his head on the doctor's shoulder, Shigure shifted until he was comfortable on his right side. “Do you think Akito will still be angry with me?”

Hatori considered the quiet question. “Akito is always angry about something. I believe he was more concerned about your health.”

Snorting, Shigure burrowed under the thin blanket. “I bet he was afraid my bruises were contagious.”

“No,” the doctor responded softly. “He was actually concerned about you. He asked me to fix you.”

The other man froze, hands grasping Hatori's arm. “What?”

“Akito asked me to fix you. To make sure you get better.” Hatori allowed himself a small chuckle. “He said you've gotten too thin.”

“Hmm.”

“And I happen to agree with him on that matter.”

“Hmm.”

“Which means, I'm contracting Honda-kun to fatten you up.”

“Hmm.”

The drowsy answers confirmed Shigure had drifted to sleep. Hatori was glad his friend had finally found rest for his overly exhausted body. He planned for a meal he was certain he'd have to force Shigure to eat. The doctor would definitely recruit Tohru for the job; her cooking was far better than anything Hatori himself could dream up. 

_I need to call her anyway,_ he thought. _Reassure her that her concern was well-founded. If anything, she would keep close tabs on her benefactor._

Sighing heavily, Hatori let himself relax further, listening to Shigure's breathing.

To resist Akito's directives meant consequences; to resist meant someone would get hurt. However, Hatori knew this would pass. He knew Shigure would fight to keep his little family together, while maintaining his independence. The Sohma 'god' could threaten all he wanted, but Hatori knew Shigure would resist with all his might to not lose everything and everyone he loved.

With another sigh, the dragon closed his eyes, feeling his cousin curl up closer. They slept the afternoon away, content in their temporary safety.

oOoOo

The End.


End file.
